The science of raising offspring
by lizzieBdarcy
Summary: What happens when you mix a consulting detective with the infant daughter of an army doctor and a assassin? Drugs, tears, panic and even a few solved cases that's what. Just a look into the antics of Sherlock Holmes; consulting babysitter.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi there! Originally I had no intention of writing another sherlolly fic as it didn't have much support but I was talking to some people on Pinterest and they inspired me to pick up my pen and give it another shot! So here goes, I own nothing but the name of Baby Watson.**

CHAPTER 1: Rockabye baby

"Molly I received your message, what was so- god what _is _that noise?" Sherlock asked letting himself into the was pacing back and forth, an infant on her shoulder and far too frazzled to scold him for breaking into her home yet again.

"What do you think it is?! I'm babysitting Bethie and-"

"Ah, the offspring. Well she will quiet soon enough and-"

"No she will _not _quiet she's been screeching for ages!"

"Then why call me?"

"Take her, i've got a splitting headache-"

"I fail to see why both of us should suffer, you are more than adequate in caring for-"

"Sherlock!"

He blinked, genuinely confused as to why his pathologist was so ruffled and now glaring at him with her "If you ever want to refresh your mind palace Molly with images that include the sense of touch you had better change your tune this instant" look. Clearly he had said something wrong.

"I mean.. you are highly capable of caring for the offspring. More than adequate?" He offered, trying to smooth things over. She continued glaring.

"This child has been crying for two and a half hours straight, she has not stopped _once_ and I am at my absolute wits end, Take her!"

The child in question was normally an angel when being watched by her favorite aunt Molly but just that morning had begun to show symptoms of teething. Her little face was squished up into a red, angry and drooling mess while she gave her small lungs a hearty workout. Toby was no where to be seen as he had long since retreated to the back of Molly's bedroom closet in self defense. And so it was Molly left to handle the screaming infant.

"Couldn't you just return her to her mother?"

"She and John have gone for a daytrip and it's their first since she's been born I can't!"

"Mrs. Hudson perhaps-"

"Is out to tea with a friend."

"Lestrade, he-"

"Sherlock Holmes you are my boyfriend now take this baby or so help me I will see to it you never have another toe to experiment on as long as we live."

He considered telling her he could always work with other limbs in a pinch and that he seriously doubted she would carry out her threat for that long but decided it would be "a bit not good" and went with his second option.

"Yes of course. Take the offspring. Not a problem." He held her gingerly as she continued to wail, trying his best not to give into the urge to hide her away in the closet and- now THERE was an idea, the closet was a dark and quiet place and babies needed-

"Absolutely not!"

"huh?" Had she read his mind? Such a phenomenon was widely discredited, even molly couldn't-

"And before you ask, no I didn't read your mind, you were thinking out loud. Sherlock we can't put her in the closet that's child neglect."

"Mycroft put me in the closet plenty of times!"

She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'that explains a lot' but grabbed a burp cloth to wipe Elizabeth's face up while he checked his mind palace briefly for a solution.

"When I would tire of John's complaining, I used to put ambien in his tea-"

"Yes he- oh no. NO Sherlock." She shook her head even as she could tell he was seriously considering this.

"Surely a tranquilizer-"

"We aren't going to drug a baby!"

"If we used one of the sedatives you give to Toby before his visit to the vet, it should be harmless. He and Elizabeth are actually very close in size-"

"No. No, Sherlock the answer is NO."

"Toby suffered no harmful effects when I attempted-"

"You doped up my cat!?"

"It was an mood actually improved while on the ambien." He insisted, shifting the still screaming little one.

"Okay one, my pet is off limits. Seriously."

"Don't be that way. I promise I won't give him anymore oxycodone-"

"Oxycodone!? Wait.. was that what was the issue when I couldn't figure out why he kept meowing at the air and sleeping!?"

"Besides the point. We've got to stop this infernal crying, she's worse than the hounds were-"

"Did you just compare our niece to a drug induced hallucination?"

"She's got to be tired, we could make her sleep, that would stop the noise."

"I've tried everything! Bottle, burping, rocking, bouncing, singing, faces, cold towels for her gums.. Oh sherlock I just don't know anymore!" Finally poor Molly broke and at the end of this statement burst into tears.

Now while Sherlock had come a long way in the concept of family and friendship, emotional outbursts still put him at a loss. And here he was being confronted by two of them. Fighting to remain calm himself, he took stock of the situation.

_Mind palace: Not an option_

_Usual comforts: of no use, Molly already tried that_

_Drugs: Viable in the case of Molly_

_Escape: Three possible exits, window, fire escape, door. Will result in certain termination of sexual privileges_

_Dummy: plausible. Offspring often does not accept it however enjoys sweet treats given behind the watchful eye of her parents…_

_Solution: Drug Molly. Flavor dummy and give to Elizabeth_

"Mouse, you clearly are in pain and exhausted. I must insist you sit down and rest." He ordered, nudging her down onto the couch.

"B-but Bethie n-needs-"

"Don't bother yourself anymore about her. Let me put the kettle on."

Not waiting for an answer, he left his sniffling girlfriend in the living room and headed to the kitchen. It was a simple matter of putting on the kettle, dipping a dummy in the cherry amaretto and doctoring the tea. Once done he popped the dummy into his niece's mouth and brought the warm drink out.

"There now, drink up. It's alright." He handed off the cup to Molly,watching with rapt attention as she drank it thirstily.

_Offspring enjoys the sound of being spoken to._

_Molly very much enjoys my speaking in lower tones._

_Both are temporarily distracted._

_Use lower tone to lull into sense of security. _

"See? No reason to cry. There we are, drink your tea."

"Sh-she's stopping, y-you got her to-"

"Mmmhm. Keep drinking."

She took a gulp without thinking, automatically doing as told and eyes already beginning to droop.

"H-how-"

"Simple matter really. Tea sweet enough?"

"Mmhm…"

He rubbed Elizabeth's tummy, nodding to himself as her cries started fading to whimpers and sniffling. Evidently she very much liked the taste of the ice cream because she had yet to spit out the dummy.

"Sh- Sherlock? Did you… you…"

"Did I what mouse?"

"The tea.. you.."

"A nap will do wonders for you. I won't have my pathologist making herself sick, the others on your staff are little more than puppets with less brain power than your cadavers."

"You prat…"

"I've been called worse."

He covered her with a blanket, then chanced a look down at the baby. Crying is an exhausting business and Elizabeth was just as tired as her aunt if not more so. Satisfied by the tiny snores coming from the child and the soft breathing coming from his pathologist he went to reward himself with a dish of cherry Amaretto. Toby, no longer having his feline ears assaulted by the hairless kitten, came out to keep watch over his humans. Sherlock turned at his entrance with a frown, crouching to pose a question.

"You're perfectly safe in the closet, why shouldn't little sponge be?"

**Toby only looked at the human disdainfully and went back to keeping watch. Especially of the closets.**


	2. Chapter 2: Little bundle of joy

Upon the birth of baby Watson, a new fixation occurred for Sherlock. While he would never admit to actually loving "the offspring", he naturally expressed it in his own Holmesian way. By the time she was 5 months old, Sherlock had made it near impossible for Elizabeth to sleep without some form of classical music playing. At 7 months she had learned five words already, this consisting of 'Dada', 'Mama', 'Lock', 'Ma-da' and 'Hi'. It was at 10 months he took her on her first trip to the morgue and this was where Molly found them when she came in for her shift.

She ought to have been suspicious the minute she walked in to hear him speaking to the microscope. Generally one couldn't get a word out of him in the lab, unless they were working a case together. Still, eccentric was practically Sherlock's middle name and so she payed it no mind- until she heard her niece cooing back.

"Sherlock! What on earth is Bethie doing here?" She hurried over to the playpen set up in the corner, peering over the edge to see the little girl happily playing with various toys, equipment and her particular favorite, Billy the skull.

"Visiting the lab. I had the splicing experiment to finish, Elizabeth has accompanied me."

"Hi!" The baby threw in, cheerfully gnawing on a test tube.

"Sherlock you can't bring a baby to the morgue. It's.. it's not only against protocol it's practically immoral!"

"Molly you're over-reacting. Your emotional attachment is clouding your judgement-"

"No it's- will you please look at me while I'm talking to you?!"

He looked up from the microscope, blinking owlishly.

"What is it mouse?"

"Bethie can't be in the lab or the morgue. It isn't safe."

"I put her in her pen." He replied, as though she were missing something very obvious.

"Yes and that was very thoughtful. But I don't want her in the lab. She needs supervision."

He paused, she could see the wheels turning as he figured something out. He was quiet long enough for her to pull on gloves and begin her own work. Eventually she became so engrossed she hardly noticed his preparing to leave and quick question.

"So long as there is supervision, she'd be perfectly safe?"

"Mmhm, sure."

"Excellant. Dinner tomorrow?"

"Yeah, great."

"Good. We'll go to Angelo's."

"Mmhm- Oh! Sher-" When she finally looked up, both he and the baby were gone.

This was the first visit. Two weeks later, he came flapping into the morgue, clearly in a hurry.

"The St. James case, I need to see-"

"Mr. Sykes, yes. Greg called ahead-"

"Greg?" Molly shook her head, despite his confused tone Sherlock's little smirk said he knew exactly who she meant.

"Sherlock you know he hates it when you pretend you don't know his name."

"I do believe you mean George, Molly."

She rolled her eyes and went back to where the body was laid out. "_Greg_ Lestrade called, I assume you've come in ahead of them. I didn't have time for much of an autopsy but preliminary suggests the gunshot wasn't what killed him."

"No, I didn't think so either." He leaned forward, craning his neck as he went to see her progress on the corpse. She frowned, there was no way his back wasn't aching in that position.

"Sherlock, I can move over if you need more room."

"My ratio of space is just fine. You are in fact aware I prefer closer proximity to you. I thought we had discussed-"

"No, it- it's not that. I just meant if you need to lean to see, I can move to the other side."

"That won't be necessary."

He leaned over as he normally would.

"See? My back is fine."

"Oh. Goo- Bethie!"

The Watson baby gurgled in response, shrieking happily when Sherlocked leaned further. It seemed the reason for his stiff movements was the infant being strapped to his back in a carrier. Her little legs kicked and she only giggled in response to Sherlock's insisting she be still.

"Sherlock Holmes, what did I tell you about bringing Bethie here!?"

"That it was unsafe unless she had full supervision or there was no way she could get in trouble."

"This isn't what I meant! Where's John?"

"Had an emergency case. Which poisons have you tested for?"

"The usuals. Sherlock-"

"Injected or ingested?"

"Neither, I was about to check his nostrils because-"

"Aha!"

His triumphant cry startled their niece enough to get her crying, which Sherlock seemed completely oblivious to.

"Sherlock take off that ridiculous contraption and give her to me."

"What for, she likes it."

Elizabeth's screams spoke to the contrary and he frowned.

"She's been very well behaved to this point."

"She's not a dog you stick into a purse, she- what are you doing?"

He had straightened up and continued swaying side to side, fingers steepled and already considering the information he'd gained from the dead man's body. "Soothing. Babies prefer a rocking motion as it reminds them of resting in the mother's room. I'm surprised you didn't know."

Elizabeth quieted almost as soon as he began to move and Molly watched in shocked silence as he rocked, even bouncing on his toes now and then. It wasn't long before the baby had nodded off and Sherlock returned to the corpse.

"You're staring. I've done something to offend? Or perhaps was insensitive?" He looked up and frowned when she leaned over and kissed him.

"I don't understand."

"You're quite the uncle Sherlock Holmes."


End file.
